3 Kyle whined with pleasure as his face was used to masturbate the guy. He leaned into the touch, juddery and unsteady as he was still being thrown with the force of the man fucking him from behind, sending bolts of pleasure shocking its way through his nerves. His own hardon was throbbing more insistently, more needily. It was so fucking loud it was drowning out everything happening around it. The onslaught of the humiliating mess being made of his face, and the deep, embedded pleasure from that special spot deep inside him worked in tandem, sending ragged bolts of ecstasy singing in his blood, and throwing his head back, with a cry, he finally felt himself nearing climax. Departing from his senses, and just basking in the pleasure being dealt into his flesh, the grasping, desperate clenching in his skin crescendoed to a giddy height and as gurgles and moans spilled from his lips, he felt his own orgasm wrack him with shudders of bliss. His body became slack. The cock in front of his face shot against his cheek, and he was pulled upright, pressed against the heated body of the man behind as he cursed and muttered and pumped. He tried to wrap his own arm back around the body holding him. But it was too much effort in the pleasured bliss, and he simply let himself be manipulated.
“You like that?” the man said as he pumped his hips into Kyle, his hands trailing along Kyle’s chest, pinching and twisting his nipples, adding a frisson of pain to the pleasure. “Your ass is gonna drink up every drop of my cum, you greedy fucking bitch.” The aftershocks of his own orgasm were too powerful for him to even think of formulating a reply. He simply rolled his head back into the crook of the man’s shoulder as he felt the cock inside him soften and plop out. His elbow stung as it collided with the floor as he was thrown down. He lay face-first, an arm cradling his head as he was wracked with pained breaths.
“He looks done,” one of them said.
There was a scoff, as he was harshly flipped around onto his back. “Fuck that,” the voice said as his legs were lifted and hoisted, bending him back uncomfortably far back. The obscenity of being opened up and stretched so wide, being put on display as an object of lust flooded him with a fresh bloom of arousal. The helplessness made him feel it anew, though he hadn’t yet regained the strength to fully participate. “Doesn’t look very done to me. You’re not done. Are you, slut?”
He whined aloud as those words hit him. And though his body was aching, burning, ragged, a loose collection of joints and sinews barely holding together, the promise of being used so thoroughly, being a sex toy for these strangers to get off with, being fucked with no care for his own pleasure was so fucking hot and so fucking right, he felt that surge stir him on to gasp one of the few statements he’d made since this experience had begun. “More. Please.”
A bitter chuckle tingled in his senses as it echoed from the man in front of him. “Oh,” he boomed. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” He whined a whine of needy arousal as his thighs were singed from the strain on them in this position. God. Yes. Being fucking moved around and manipulated, throwing himself off of the precipice and not caring where he landed. Letting it all fucking just go. He gasped and moaned, writhing and bucking against the ground as another dick pushed its way in. His nerves were warmed over with the aftereffects of his last orgasm, and that sensation made it all the hotter. They could keep him coming for hours, all night, all fucking week, however fucking long it took until they were all done. Wrench orgasm after orgasm out of him, wring his body for every scrap of pleasure it could stand, make him cum until it hurt, until he couldn’t stand it anymore, until there was nothing left. His back arched as his mind was clouded by those filthy images, and the guy fucking his ass slammed in hard.
“Damn,” a reedier voice said. “We’ve hit cumdumpster payload. So fucking desperate.”
His vision was stuttering in and out, receiving snapshots of men, just men, crowding him, sticking their dicks in him, slapping him, spraying him with cum. He lay back, regal and serene, feeling the ache as he was fucked into the floor, as his body was used, as he was overwhelmed with the heat of it. The groans and gurgles of the men, the splashing against his skin, the dirty abandon of the entire fucking thing. His own voice rang out above the din, and Oh God his legs were hurting and that was so fucking good, and there was even a twinge in his lower back. And that was even better. His teeth grazed sharply against an inflamed tongue, feeling the gratifying pain of a tongue that had been too busy, that had been granted no respite, that had been used again and again with no softness or gentleness. Because it didn’t matter, because they didn’t care. He was hard again, and it barely made a difference because every atom that constituted his body was groaning with filth and desperation. And pleasure. So much pleasure from so much abandon. He cried out again as his body convulsed with the force of it, and then fell back, heaving for breath. He felt unleashed, and wild, and in a frenzied urgency to seek out more, to greedily swallow down whatever was on offer; whatever was going to happen next. He needed it so much. It burned in him.
His legs were slapped sharply apart, and he clambered to spread them. He could feel a pair of hands yanking at his ass, pulling the cheeks apart, and he gasped at the feeling as a cluster of fingers shoved their way inside. The pleasure was dull, blunted, before they sharply shoved their way in, forcing themselves against that spot that sent a tingling burst racing through him yet again.
He could feel the room starting to sway, as he was pulled ass out, and then the new entrance burned even more severely than the previous, as though his walls were being prised apart, torn apart. A groan escaped from his lips, sending shivers through the man in his mouth. And he turned his head, eager to see the reason for the new intensity, and felt himself flutter and twitch as he witnessed two men pushing their way inside him at once. God. Yes. That. Finally. He was too fucked out, too lost to pleasure to describe to himself what the thought of that did to him, but he luxuriated in the pleasure and the pain as he was stuffed full. He was soaring, floating, the ache in his joints and the unceasing, uncompromising pleasure rushing through him, building on itself, creating a new entity and leaving every other thought, every flicker of his existence, everything that had ever made him what he was behind.
He outstretched his arms, searching for more of this, more of this pleasure that he could give and receive and partake in. His fingers were grabbed and manipulated, wrapping themselves around two more dicks, and he luxuriated in the pulsing throb of the men fucking his hands, grinding and fondling themseles against his grip. With a desperate moan, his fingers uncurled themselves of their own volition. God, his hands had been intended for sports, for crafting communications, for honest salt of the earth work, and now these too were being elevated into things to fuck, and the abandon of that made his heady arousal more wild. As his eyes turned to the ceiling, he was met with a new face, peering down at him. He couldn’t begin to imagine how he must look now, so fucked out, red and panting, oozing cum splashed across his cheekbone and sticking, hair stuck to his face, throwing his head back with agonised gurgles of sheer, filthy indulgence as the constant slamming against his prostate sent shivers of ecstatic, renewed bliss echoing through him. He could only guess that he would look completely unrecognisable, that the old him had been stripped from his body and left in a heap with the rest of his clothes.
He was too insensible to register it, as the new man clambered awkwardly over him, feet planted either side of his head. Coming to rest on a seated position on his chest, the new stranger grinned a dazzling grin, and awkwardly angled himself so that he could feed his cock into Kyle’s mouth. Kyle felt his lips, puffy and sore against the new dick. He groaned. His jaw was aching, screaming out for respite, and the difficult angle made his neck hurt. Though he was loose and slack, letting his face be fucked again, the twinges in his jaw cried out, bursting against the shards of pleasure from the rough fucking singing its way through his lower body. His legs were contorted at wild angles as the stranger slammed into him. His eyes were burning, as the shortness of breath hit him, coupled with the cock pushing its way into his throat, and the ache in his jaw cried out against the new arrival. The two slamming into his ass gripping into his hips tight enough to bruise, and He could feel himself, leaking just as hard as the first time, his own cock bobbing against his stomach, threatening to splash more of its own cum. He felt utterly coated by now, by sweat and by cum and by delicious, desirous immorality, and by the ache in his joints, that slow, searing wonderful ache and the sharpness of the uncaring thrusting layering fresh burns on the old and by pleasure. If anxiety or guilt or stress were to come knocking now, he would feel nothing about turning them away. There was no space left in his body for any of that. He was too filled up with cock.
Re: Kyle/mob, gangbang, rough fucking
Kyle whined with pleasure as his face was used to masturbate the guy. He leaned into the touch, juddery and unsteady as he was still being thrown with the force of the man fucking him from behind, sending bolts of pleasure shocking its way through his nerves. His own hardon was throbbing more insistently, more needily. It was so fucking loud it was drowning out everything happening around it. The onslaught of the humiliating mess being made of his face, and the deep, embedded pleasure from that special spot deep inside him worked in tandem, sending ragged bolts of ecstasy singing in his blood, and throwing his head back, with a cry, he finally felt himself nearing climax. Departing from his senses, and just basking in the pleasure being dealt into his flesh, the grasping, desperate clenching in his skin crescendoed to a giddy height and as gurgles and moans spilled from his lips, he felt his own orgasm wrack him with shudders of bliss. His body became slack. The cock in front of his face shot against his cheek, and he was pulled upright, pressed against the heated body of the man behind as he cursed and muttered and pumped. He tried to wrap his own arm back around the body holding him. But it was too much effort in the pleasured bliss, and he simply let himself be manipulated.
“You like that?” the man said as he pumped his hips into Kyle, his hands trailing along Kyle’s chest, pinching and twisting his nipples, adding a frisson of pain to the pleasure. “Your ass is gonna drink up every drop of my cum, you greedy fucking bitch.” The aftershocks of his own orgasm were too powerful for him to even think of formulating a reply. He simply rolled his head back into the crook of the man’s shoulder as he felt the cock inside him soften and plop out. His elbow stung as it collided with the floor as he was thrown down. He lay face-first, an arm cradling his head as he was wracked with pained breaths.
“He looks done,” one of them said.
There was a scoff, as he was harshly flipped around onto his back. “Fuck that,” the voice said as his legs were lifted and hoisted, bending him back uncomfortably far back. The obscenity of being opened up and stretched so wide, being put on display as an object of lust flooded him with a fresh bloom of arousal. The helplessness made him feel it anew, though he hadn’t yet regained the strength to fully participate. “Doesn’t look very done to me. You’re not done. Are you, slut?”
He whined aloud as those words hit him. And though his body was aching, burning, ragged, a loose collection of joints and sinews barely holding together, the promise of being used so thoroughly, being a sex toy for these strangers to get off with, being fucked with no care for his own pleasure was so fucking hot and so fucking right, he felt that surge stir him on to gasp one of the few statements he’d made since this experience had begun. “More. Please.”
A bitter chuckle tingled in his senses as it echoed from the man in front of him. “Oh,” he boomed. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” He whined a whine of needy arousal as his thighs were singed from the strain on them in this position. God. Yes. Being fucking moved around and manipulated, throwing himself off of the precipice and not caring where he landed. Letting it all fucking just go. He gasped and moaned, writhing and bucking against the ground as another dick pushed its way in. His nerves were warmed over with the aftereffects of his last orgasm, and that sensation made it all the hotter. They could keep him coming for hours, all night, all fucking week, however fucking long it took until they were all done. Wrench orgasm after orgasm out of him, wring his body for every scrap of pleasure it could stand, make him cum until it hurt, until he couldn’t stand it anymore, until there was nothing left. His back arched as his mind was clouded by those filthy images, and the guy fucking his ass slammed in hard.
“Damn,” a reedier voice said. “We’ve hit cumdumpster payload. So fucking desperate.”
His vision was stuttering in and out, receiving snapshots of men, just men, crowding him, sticking their dicks in him, slapping him, spraying him with cum. He lay back, regal and serene, feeling the ache as he was fucked into the floor, as his body was used, as he was overwhelmed with the heat of it. The groans and gurgles of the men, the splashing against his skin, the dirty abandon of the entire fucking thing. His own voice rang out above the din, and Oh God his legs were hurting and that was so fucking good, and there was even a twinge in his lower back. And that was even better. His teeth grazed sharply against an inflamed tongue, feeling the gratifying pain of a tongue that had been too busy, that had been granted no respite, that had been used again and again with no softness or gentleness. Because it didn’t matter, because they didn’t care. He was hard again, and it barely made a difference because every atom that constituted his body was groaning with filth and desperation. And pleasure. So much pleasure from so much abandon. He cried out again as his body convulsed with the force of it, and then fell back, heaving for breath. He felt unleashed, and wild, and in a frenzied urgency to seek out more, to greedily swallow down whatever was on offer; whatever was going to happen next. He needed it so much. It burned in him.
His legs were slapped sharply apart, and he clambered to spread them. He could feel a pair of hands yanking at his ass, pulling the cheeks apart, and he gasped at the feeling as a cluster of fingers shoved their way inside. The pleasure was dull, blunted, before they sharply shoved their way in, forcing themselves against that spot that sent a tingling burst racing through him yet again.
He could feel the room starting to sway, as he was pulled ass out, and then the new entrance burned even more severely than the previous, as though his walls were being prised apart, torn apart. A groan escaped from his lips, sending shivers through the man in his mouth. And he turned his head, eager to see the reason for the new intensity, and felt himself flutter and twitch as he witnessed two men pushing their way inside him at once. God. Yes. That. Finally. He was too fucked out, too lost to pleasure to describe to himself what the thought of that did to him, but he luxuriated in the pleasure and the pain as he was stuffed full. He was soaring, floating, the ache in his joints and the unceasing, uncompromising pleasure rushing through him, building on itself, creating a new entity and leaving every other thought, every flicker of his existence, everything that had ever made him what he was behind.
He outstretched his arms, searching for more of this, more of this pleasure that he could give and receive and partake in. His fingers were grabbed and manipulated, wrapping themselves around two more dicks, and he luxuriated in the pulsing throb of the men fucking his hands, grinding and fondling themseles against his grip. With a desperate moan, his fingers uncurled themselves of their own volition. God, his hands had been intended for sports, for crafting communications, for honest salt of the earth work, and now these too were being elevated into things to fuck, and the abandon of that made his heady arousal more wild. As his eyes turned to the ceiling, he was met with a new face, peering down at him. He couldn’t begin to imagine how he must look now, so fucked out, red and panting, oozing cum splashed across his cheekbone and sticking, hair stuck to his face, throwing his head back with agonised gurgles of sheer, filthy indulgence as the constant slamming against his prostate sent shivers of ecstatic, renewed bliss echoing through him. He could only guess that he would look completely unrecognisable, that the old him had been stripped from his body and left in a heap with the rest of his clothes.
He was too insensible to register it, as the new man clambered awkwardly over him, feet planted either side of his head. Coming to rest on a seated position on his chest, the new stranger grinned a dazzling grin, and awkwardly angled himself so that he could feed his cock into Kyle’s mouth. Kyle felt his lips, puffy and sore against the new dick. He groaned. His jaw was aching, screaming out for respite, and the difficult angle made his neck hurt. Though he was loose and slack, letting his face be fucked again, the twinges in his jaw cried out, bursting against the shards of pleasure from the rough fucking singing its way through his lower body. His legs were contorted at wild angles as the stranger slammed into him. His eyes were burning, as the shortness of breath hit him, coupled with the cock pushing its way into his throat, and the ache in his jaw cried out against the new arrival. The two slamming into his ass gripping into his hips tight enough to bruise, and He could feel himself, leaking just as hard as the first time, his own cock bobbing against his stomach, threatening to splash more of its own cum. He felt utterly coated by now, by sweat and by cum and by delicious, desirous immorality, and by the ache in his joints, that slow, searing wonderful ache and the sharpness of the uncaring thrusting layering fresh burns on the old and by pleasure. If anxiety or guilt or stress were to come knocking now, he would feel nothing about turning them away. There was no space left in his body for any of that. He was too filled up with cock.